


Elegant.

by fictrashdotcom



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (well just about anyway), Feelings Realization, M/M, Oblivious Caspar, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 12:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20639336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictrashdotcom/pseuds/fictrashdotcom
Summary: Caspar wasn’t sure if it was the dots of sunshine smattered across his face like freckles, or the summer breeze that gently moved his hair, but he had to admit that Linhardt looked somewhat… elegant?





	Elegant.

Caspar wasn’t sure if it was the dots of sunshine smattered across his face like freckles, or the summer breeze that gently moved his hair, but he had to admit that Linhardt looked somewhat… elegant? No, that wasn’t quite the right word. But, after thinking it over for quite some time, Caspar decided there wasn’t really a word out there to describe it. Though, words weren’t exactly his forte. 

He ambled over to Linhardt, sat down, and propped his axe up against the oak tree. Sitting beneath the tree himself, Caspar figured he too must have dappled light on his face. Perhaps not a breeze through his hair, though. It was much too short to capture any of the same _ aura _ that Linhardt’s did. And his was much too greasy, sweaty, and generally a mess. None of that could be said about Linhardt’s hair. His was long, tied back with a simple ribbon, and ridiculously _ green _. Sometimes Caspar felt like he could stare at Linhardt’s hair for hours. Though that would be a little weird, he thinks. 

Linhardt’s eyes were decidedly shut as his body was slumped back against the tree. Caspar considered waking him up. After all, he’d gotten plenty of bruises and cuts that should really be healed. But that would be cruel, wouldn’t it? Linhardt looked so peaceful…

A snore bubbled up through Linhardt’s lips, and Caspar chuckled. In this state, Linhardt was oddly like a baby. The breeze picked up again, this time with more force, and blew several locks of Linhardt’s hair across his face. Well that ruined it, didn’t it? Now he was even more baby-like. Helpless and defenceless against the heartless brute that was the wind. Caspar simply had to help him. _ Defend _ him. So he reached forward, shuffling his legs a little to close the distance, and - _ ouch _. He forgot about that. He really did need healing. But first, he had to push away that hair. Caspar leant forward more, ignoring the throbbing shoulder pain, and lifted a hand to Linhardt’s face. 

The closeness was odd, Caspar decided. He couldn’t recall a time when their bodies were in such close proximity, let alone their faces. Whenever Linhardt corrected his stance during training, he would do so from his seat in the corner, usually by a wall that he would lean on to doze off. In fact, Caspar was pretty sure that those corrections were given most of the time when Linhardt was still half asleep. It really was such a pity that Linhardt didn’t use his knowledge for fighting. 

Maybe they had been closer when they were little, as children so often are, but Caspar couldn’t remember that far back.

Or maybe they were close like this all the time, and Caspar simply hadn’t noticed. Because this closeness was definitely _ different _.

Anyway. The matter at hand. Caspar realised his fingers had been hovering over Linhardt’s cheek for far too long. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to move them. He found himself just staring at Linhardt’s face. 

Had Linhardt always had such thick eyelashes? And since when had his skin looked so _ soft? _ He almost wanted to touch it. Well. He very much wanted to touch it, to reach just a little further and place his fingertips on Linhardt’s cheek. Goddess, what had gotten into him? He’d never felt such an… appreciation for beauty. Oh. _ Beauty? _ Was that what this was? Was that what he viewed Linhardt as? Beautiful? Caspar had never really thought about anyone as beautiful before. Or _ anything, _ for that matter. Whilst other people noticed how the sky was a cloudless blue, or how the green grass was littered with new daisies, Caspar noticed simply that it was a good day for training, or a fight. He was never one for ‘the little things’. Yet here he was, taking note of his friend’s features, and the way the spots of light illuminated them as he dozed under the tree.

Admiration was new for Caspar, at least in this sort of way. So, ever the adventurer, he found himself exploring that feeling as he finally brought his hand to the hair on Linhardt’s face. He brushed it to the side, and caught a touch of Linhardt’s cheek along with it. _ Wow. _ His skin was soft, even more so than it looked. Caspar couldn’t help but let his fingers linger on his friend’s cheek for a moment longer than they should. He felt his stomach turn at that moment, as if something had _ changed. _But he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Mmm…” Linhardt murmured, reminding Caspar that he was very much a living person, who would very likely wake up when someone was_ touching his face. _

_   
_Caspar retracted his hand quickly - maybe a little too quickly, as his shoulder ached at that - and sat back against the tree. He watched as Linhardt stirred, stretched, then slowly opened his eyes. Somehow, it surprised Caspar to see Linhardt’s blue irises appear from underneath his eyelids. It was as if he’d forgotten all about them, after gazing at his friend’s sleeping face for so long. But Caspar didn’t really mind. After all, if he was to admire Linhardt’s features, he really ought to consider his eyes, too. So, Caspar decided, it was rather good of him to wake up just now.

Or maybe it wasn't a good thing, because the more Caspar looked into his friend’s eyes, the more he felt as though he were falling into them. They were glossed over with all the haze of sleep, with dark flecks around the pupils and a certain_ shine _ to them. Suddenly Caspar wished Linhardt was asleep again.

He should say something now, shouldn’t he? Though preferably not about how he’d been staring at Linhardt’s face for the past few minutes. So instead, he went with: “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

Linhardt yawned.

“I didn’t wanna wake you up, but… I’ve got some bruises ‘n stuff that need healing, if you don’t mind…”

“Of course I don’t mind, Caspar.” Linhardt said, then turned to face him properly. For a split second, Caspar wondered if Linhardt thought about his eyes the way he had just thought about his. He wondered, just for a moment, if Linhardt felt himself falling into his eyes, stomach turning all the way. But he dismissed those thoughts as soon as they came.

“Where are the bruises, then?” Linhardt asked somewhat sleepily. 

_ Oh, right. _ Caspar held his arms out. “Just these ones here, then my shoulder’s pretty bad as well. But that’s all.”

Linhardt laughed softly. “You’ve been minimising injuries lately. I’m proud of you.”

Caspar had been making a conscious effort to improve his dodging and avoidance tactics, because Linhardt had expressed his concerns about his copious injuries last week. He smiled and lowered his arms to rest on his knees.

He watched intently as Linhardt flexed his fingers, soft light glowing all around them. A comforting warmth spread from his arms to his whole body as the cuts, scratches and bruises faded away. Caspar could’ve sworn the warmth intensified as he looked up at Linhardt’s face, if only for a moment.

Linhardt moved to heal his shoulder, and Caspar dared to draw his gaze upward again. He found himself looking into Linhardt’s eyes - and Linhardt was looking right back. Gazes locked, Caspar felt as though time was standing still. After a moment that seemed to last forever - a really _ good _ forever, Caspar thought - Linhardt’s eyes flicked away to address his shoulder.

But Caspar didn’t stop looking. He _ couldn’t. _So as Linhardt began to heal his shoulder, Caspar looked at his face again. This time, it was different. His eyes were unusually awake, his eyebrows were pushed down in concentration, and, most notable to Caspar, the corners of his mouth were tugged upwards in a slight smile. And though Caspar wouldn’t be too fond of saying so out loud, it was quite the beautiful smile.

As Linhardt worked on healing Caspar’s shoulder, the wind gained strength again and blew a breeze through his hair. Caspar felt a twinge of déjà vu. Perhaps, he thought, elegant _ was _ the right word for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm seriously in love with these two, and the whole childhood-friends-but-they're-oblivious-idiots-dynamic is just *chefs kiss* perfect. Therefore, I had to write a fic for them. (Also this is my first fic that isn't a chat fic! So yay! 'Real' writing!)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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